Summer Loving
by Su-Whisterfield
Summary: Hm, The Summer quarter of The Quiet Council appears to consist of three important people in Logan's life, how does he fell about that then? I'm completely ignoring him shagging Mystique, there's not enough brain bleach for that image.


Chuck's just announced our Quiet Council. Who's bright idea was it to put 'Poccy and Sinister, Exodus and, oh, joy, Mystique on there? Plus Frost and Shaw. Can see no way this will end well.  
And then he announces the last three. Oh.  
Would ya' look at that? Storm, Marvel Girl and Nightcrawler. Heh. 'Ro, Jeannie and my Elf.

The three of them. Yeah.

'Ro. Ororo. Storm. Our Wind Rider.  
Bona fide goddess. So beautiful, so elegant, her name means 'beauty' an' her parents were spot on, she's stunning. And serene. And wise. And we had a thing going on, while back. She's good for me, we're good for each other, we support each other well on the team, and beyond. We've worked together for years and she seen me through some bad shit, particularly when I didn't have my healing factor to fall back on, I'll always owe her for that.  
She's as strong as she is beautiful, and so calm, but you really don't want her mad with you; the crackle of ozone and rumble of thunder spells trouble, she could freeze half the world, if she had a mind to, fortunately, most of the time, she doesn't want to.  
It's over between us now, and, yes, I miss her. We're still good though, solid, strong friendship.

The memory of those endless legs, warm, soft breasts, in the scented tranquillity of her room, with plants, green and growing, the air full of life. Hair like a snowfall cascading down her back, those crystal blue eyes, skin dark and sweet as honey. She's magnificent.  
She's on my lap, moving, strong, toned thighs rising, falling as she fucks herself on me. My mouth moves over those heavy breasts, she growls her pleasure, bearing her neck, almost daring me to mark her. Her fingers spark with electricity, she runs them down my back and I shudder at the stimulation, the intensity of sensation and come deep inside her warmth.

And Jean, oh boy. Jeannie.  
Always thought 'Ro was out of my class; when we started something, she decided it, she decided I was worthy of her.  
Jean? Much more my type. Girl-next-door, if that 'girl' could lay waste galaxies and host one of the primal forces of the universe. Fire and life incarnate. And she is too. Where Ororo is cool and controlled, Jean is passion and flashing green eyes. Can't take _my e_yes off her, I'll never understand what she sees in Summers, or how he could want to be with anyone but her, particularly a cold fish like Frost.  
And now, now I've got my chance to be with her, to show her what we can be together. To show her what a real man can do, what real love is. My room on the Luna habitat connects with hers. The doors are open, we only need to step through and go with the flow, go with the wanting which eats at both of us.  
Her glorious red hair shines with a fire of its own and I can smell the power in her, I'm helplessly attracted to her, like a moth to her flame.  
Telepath, strongest we have; there are no secrets from her and the intimacy of feeling what she feels and her feeling what I am is intoxicating, a feedback loop of passion, desire, want. Almost painful in its intensity. I'm under no illusions; chances are we'll crash and burn, but hell, it's gonna be worth it.

Then there's Kurt. My Elf, my bright, clever, lad.  
We've talked about this Council crap; he's excited, flattered, nervous.  
He looks out of place, with all these big guys, these hard hitters, powerful, dangerous, megalomaniacs, psychopaths, goddesses, but he stands tall, a slender strand of moonlight made flesh.  
See, he makes me go all poetic. That's not all he makes me. Go look up _L'Après-midi d'un faune_. That's culture, that is. And that's my boy; graceful, sensual, gentle but strong.

I can tell he's nervous from the stiffness of his back, but he won't let on, won't show it to them, he'll stand up to any of them, put them right. Doesn't matter how old or powerful they are, if he thinks they're wrong, he'll tell them so.  
I know this because I know him better than anyone here; he's really more comfortable crouching down, rather than standing, but he's a showman and he knows how to look the part. So, straight back, head held high it is. Though he still sways, slightly, when he walks, that ever moving tail.  
He'll suit The Council, much more than being a field leader, he's very bright, very smart, but he's best when he has time to plan, to concentrate, to consider options, rather than thinking on the hoof.  
And he'll be safe on The Council. The urge to protect him is huge, much stronger than with Jeannie or 'Ro; they can look after the themselves. Damn it, so can he. Grown man, perfectly capable. But still. I want him safe, I always want him safe.

Elf's telling me about being asked to join, as I kiss my way down taut, hard abs, covered in velvet fur. As I brush my hands over powerful leg muscles which twitch with arousal, with what I'm doing with my mouth. As I stroke the fur the wrong way, just to watch him writhe at the sensation. As I take his cock deep in my mouth, he loses the plot, he lies, in the middle of the bed, head flung back, gasping, arching into his orgasm. One of the best ways to get him to shut the hell up. I know several. All of them fun.  
Then I raise his knees and fuck him, gently, carefully; he's too precious to damage. And looking down at him, seeing those incredible golden eyes looking back at me, knowing how much he trusts me, how much I trust him, I bend down and kiss him, my beautiful boy, my clever, kind lad.  
Go show them what you can do, Kurt. Go make us proud.


End file.
